The Truth
by imredwhiteandblack
Summary: so, this takes place right after season six's last episode.  Warning: those of you who have not seen or finished season six should not read this . . . Deb's POV
1. Chapter 1

"Oh God . . ." Dexter muttered.

I looked down at his hands that were clutched around the knife planted in Travis Marshal's chest. I felt the bile rise. _Hold on, Deb; don't fucking loose yourself now . . . _I told myself. Yet, it still kept making its way up my throat. Dex's eyes were somewhere between shell-shocked and horrified. He still gripped the knife.

I swallowed.

"Dexter?" My voice sounded unfamiliar and foreign. What was this? Why was this happening? He just starred at me. Suddenly, his hands flew away from the knife as if it were as hot as fuck.

"Deb." He choked. I starred at him for what seemed like an eternity until I finally tore my eyes away from his face to look down at the bleeding body beside him. The blood seemed to be caught in the plastic wrapped around Travis' body. It slowly trickled down his sides to pool underneath him.

"Dex, w-what is th-this?" My voice trembled uncontrollably. My knees shook more than they did on the way down there to tell Dex my fucking _feelings._ Well, that was pretty fucking moot, now, wasn't it?

He didn't answer me. I looked up from Travis so my eyes could meet Dexter's.

"Dexter, what the _fuck_ is this?"

"Debra, I can explain . . ."

"Oh, really?" The hysteria in my voice was apparent, "Then I would love for you to fucking start!"

"Deb, I . . . I-I can't . . . explain . . . I'm sorry."

"Why?" I yelled.

"You don't want to know . . ."

"Um, I'm pretty fucking sure I do, Dex!" More hysteria.

"I'm sorry." He repeated. He brought his gloved hands to his face.

The bile won.

I turned away from him as the vomit hit the church floor. I wondered if God would mind me puking in one of his sacred temples. Probably not; considering all of the things that had happened in it already, that was just a mere slight rudeness that would soon be forgotten. Yeah, compared to what was happening right then involving my brother, that was nothing.

"Debra?" Dexter's voice was closer than before. I lifted my head to see him standing five feet away from me with his arms extended as if he was going to catch me if I fell.

"Don't come near me." I warned. Though, I sounded weak and vulnerable: two popular feelings for me now-a-days.

"Deb, please . . . don't hate me."

"I don't . . . hate you, Dexter. I don't know what to think right now. Give me a minute."

"Okay." He backed away slightly.

I pulled my self out of my hunched position and moved away from the vomit. I lowered myself to the floor and let my legs fall out from under me. Dexter took a seat in a nearby chair after bringing to where he formerly stood.

"Debra, are you okay?" He asked softly.

"I don't know, Dexter!" I shouted at him.

"Sorry."

"I just don't understand this." I gestured to Travis' body.

"He was a bad man . . ." He sounded as if he was talking to a small child. I recognized the tone he used with Harrison.

"OBVIOUSLY!" I screamed, "WHAT DO YOU THINK I'VE BEEN TRYING TO DO FOR THESE LAST COUPLE OF WEEKS? ASK HIM ON A DATE?"

"Calm down, Deb."

"CALM DOWN?" I laughed humorlessly, "YOU WANT ME TO CALM DOWN?"

"Yes . . .?"

I looked down at my hands. They were blurry.

"Deb, please don't cry . . ."

"Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!"

He became very silent. I thought I had it all figured out. I thought Dex would finaly be the one normal man I fell in love with. Well, I was fucking wrong. After a few moments of silence – beside my occasional hysterical hiccups and sobs – I wiped my eyes and sniffled. I looked up at Dexter. His eyes held mine. I brought myself to my feet and dusted myself off; my eyes never leaving his.

"Well," I said weakly, "how are we going to get rid of this body?"


	2. Lt Little Sister

"Uh, what?" He looked dumfounded.

"How. Are. We. Going. To. Hide. This. Body." I said it very slowly.

"Deb, I don't want you to get involved with this."

"The hell you don't."

He clenched his jaw, and then turned toward Travis, then back to me.

"_You_ don't want to get involved in this."

"The hell I don't!"

"Dammit, Debra."

"You're my b-brother, Dex; I'm going to help you with this. No matter how sick it is . . . but, I . . . think you did the right thing. I just wish you would have left it to me. I wouldn't get pounded if you did." Woah, I must have lost my mind. I felt calm all of the sudden, like I'd been through this a hundred times. It was almost as if I caught my brother looking at porn, not shoving a knife in a guy's chest. It was weird, but not scary. It was probably because I was totally in love with him. Fuck my life.

"If I left it to you, Deb, you would probably be dead . . ."

"Is that an insult?"

". . . No"

"Hmm, I think it is. It's like you're saying I'm not a good enough lieutenant.

"Of course you are. He was just too dangerous for you . . . I couldn't loose you."

My heart jumped. Why did he have to do this to me?

"Wait, if he was too dangerous for me, he wasn't too dangerous for you? Dex . . . this isn't the first time you've done this, is it." I said it as a statement, not a question. When he didn't respond right away, I took a look around the church. The entire room was covered in plastic. On the walls, pictures of Dooms Day Killer's crime scenes hung side by side. Yeah, definitely not his first time. It was really . . . impressive. It was so . . . carefully crafted so . . . my dad. Dexter must have learned every thing from Harry. He knew how people couldn't get caught; he knew how to replicate that. But, my dad didn't have to worry about his Lt. Little Sister finding out his dirty little secret.

I returned my gaze to Dexter, who now was looking around the room too. Seeing what I was seeing. Probably wondering how I was processing this.

"I came down here to tell you that I love you."

"Didn't we already establish this?"

"Yeah."

"So . . . I love you too. You know that."

I stared at him. He may be a genius with blood spattering and skillfully murdering people, but he obviously couldn't take subtle girl-hints.

"You've never said those words to me until yesterday and today. Did you know that?"

He was silent for a moment; contemplating this information.

"Really?"'

"Really."

"Hmm."

"What do you mean: _hmm_?"

"Well, I never realized that. I love you very much, and . . . always have." His eyebrows pulled together, like this was shocking news to him. We stood there for a moment staring at each other. Then, Dexter took a step toward me. Then another and another, until he reached me. He stood in front of me, looking me over. Why did I feel so self-conscious? He reached his arms out and caught me in a hug.

"I'm sorry, Deb. I wish you didn't have to see that." His lips were so close to my ear. I shivered. He must have taken that shiver the wrong way because he backed away from me quickly.

"Sorry." He said for the millionth time.

"It's not you." I lied.

"What is it?"

"I'm just so stressed right now with fucking LaGuerta and all. She's still counting on me finding Marshal. Well, I fucking found him, didn't I?"

"Deb, we can figure something out, okay?"

"Fuck."

"It'll be okay."

"I highly doubt that."

"Hey, we're both in Miami Metro Homicide; we can take care of this. We can make it look like it's something it's not. I do it all the time."

"Of course you do, you're a serial killer."

"Woah, that was weird to hear you say it."

"Say what?"

"That I'm a serial killer."

"Well, you are."

"I know, I just never thought I'd hear you say it . . . it's weird."

"You want to know what else is weird?"

"What?"

"The fact that it took me this long to figure it out."


	3. Pantyhose

*Let me know if there is anything I can make better. –imredwhiteandblack*

My office was literally sent to me as a gift from Satan. I felt claustrophobic in it and most of the time I wanted to punch something every minute I spent in there.

Particularly LaGuerta.

But lately it hadn't been so bad. Ever since Dex spent more time in it that anyone else. Whenever he got the chance, Dexter would hang out in my office with me and we would talk homicide. He knew a lot more about it that I ever could have dreamed. I guess it was because he had first hand accounts with it all the time.

Ever since Dex showed me his techniques for a 'perfect murder', he had been more open with me than ever before. It was strange learning about a whole new person that I thought I already knew. The even stranger part was that the new person didn't repulse me, he intrigued me. When I watched him hack Travis into pieces, I marveled over how strong he was and almost didn't puke at the sight. Almost. And when he took me on his boat to dump Travis' body in the dark water – which apparently he had done many times with many body part-filled garbage bags – I felt _safe_. I found out about the code that Harry showed him. Everything was brought to the light involving Brian. He told me everything.

I still hadn't gotten the whole story out of Dexter involving Travis. He wasn't ready to tell me, apparently. He said he would tell me eventually.

"Deb, are you listening?" Dexter asked now.

"Huh? What?" I think I was just starring directly at his crotch. _Oh shit. What was he saying? Something about going out tonight for dinner? Fuck, I don't know!_

"I thought I lost you there for a minute." He said, dipping his head so that his eyes could meet mine. "I know I'm boring but seriously, Deb, come on."

"No, no! I was listening! Yeah I'd love to go out tonight." Did he notice how my voice was trembling?

"Good. I'll pick you up from your new house at nine. Brother-sister bonding time." He punched his fists into the air sarcastically.

"Okay, sounds good." I laughed.

He smiled and casually walked out of my shithole office.

And then, of course, Quin had to walk in; making my shithole office even _more_ of a shithole office.

"Uh, hey, Deb. I need those files from last week?"

I stared at him for a moment.

"Uh, yeah . . . yeah. Just let me get those." I opened up a cabinet to pull out the files Quin needed.

"So, Deb," He began, "I noticed that Dexter's been, uh, hanging around you a lot more and you look like a bunch of gossiping teenage girls. What's going on? Are you discussing an upcoming secret mission or something?" He grinned.

"Shut up, Quin." I said, handing him the manila folder. "Go get to work before I transfer you."

He grinned again and raised an eyebrow. He turned to leave but stopped abruptly.

"Oh, and, Deb?"

"Yes?"

"You look nice today." He walked out the door before I could respond. I instinctively smoothed out the pencil skirt that clung to my legs. Oh, God, was it that noticeable? I had been dressing up for Dexter . . . and I was also hoping that no one else would notice. Of course Quin would notice; he was a douche bag. Shit, if he found out that I literally wanted to have my brother's babies, he would NEVER let it go. Yeah, time to stop dressing up . . .

I thought about the time Dexter had said I'd officially crossed the line of brother-sister comfort zone after asking him if one could die of crotch combustion resulting from pantyhose.

If he thought _that _was crossing the line, then he would probably vomit at the dreams I'd been having lately.

Ha.


	4. Skin

"Fuck!"

"Calm down, Deb."

"Fuck you."

"Deb –"

"No, just shut up."

"This is me, Deb! This is what I do! Just please except that."

Dexter sat down, rubbing his temples. I stood defiantly in front of him with my arms crossed.

"Please, I'm sorry. I know that we were supposed to go out tonight, but I found him! I found the guy I've been looking for this past week. He needs to die. And, I can do that."

"Dex, it's not about going out tonight; I could care less. But, please don't go kill someone. Not tonight."

"He is a rapist and murderer, Deb; do you really think he deserves to live?"

"Well, I don't know! It's not up to me to decide."

"Right, it's up to me."

"Come on, how about we just go out, get something to eat, and I'll have the police take care of him tomorrow. Just give me his information."

"No, Debra."

I walked over to his couch and sat down.

"The babysitter is going to be here any minute." I said.

"Yeah. So?"

"So . . . does she know?"

"No."

"Does anyone know besides me?"

"No."

"Not even Gross English Titty Vampire? What ever happened to her anyway?"

"She died."

"What? When?"

"I killed her a while ago."

I stared at him.

"She killed Doakes." He confirmed.

"Oh my God."

"Yeah."

"Those candles should have been a red flag."

"Shut up."

I got up and walked over to him. I pulled my chair next to his and sat crisscrossed on it.

"Seriously, you used to date the weirdest people."

"And you didn't?"

I chuckled through my nose.

"What about the 'tenant', what happened to her?"

"She left me."

"Did you . . . ?"

"Get together? Yeah."

"Oh." That bothered me.

"Don't get freaked out, but she was a rape victim. I saved her . . . Do you remember when you . . . Never mind."

"What, tell me."

"Do you remember the 'twelve rape victims' case you did?"

I could literally hear the click in my mind.

"Oh my God, that was you behind the plastic!"

"And her."

"So you killed all those guys?"

"We both did. I killed some and she killed some. She was the thirteenth rape victim. She was the only one who lived. I stole the DVD and put a ruined one in its place."

"That was you?"

"Yes."

"Wow."

"She's the one who killed Chase."

"Wow." I repeated.

"Yeah."

I wanted to change the subject. Things were getting more uncomfortable than they usually did.

"So I think I'm gonna call you BHB from now on." I said without thinking.

"What does that stand for?" He asked.

"Bay Harbor Butcher, what else?"

He laughed and ruffled my hair.

"You don't know how long I've been wanting to hear you say that . . . calmly."

I smiled slightly and looked around the room. Something brown caught my eye.

"Uh, Dex, what is that?" I asked, pointing at a brown shipping box hidden between the counter and the fridge.

"I don't know." He said, getting up. "I never noticed it before." He picked it up and brought it to the table. As he opened it, I caught the slightest bit of flesh colored plastic . . . Or, was it plastic?


End file.
